On a Saturday morning in 2016 (a poem)

A warm, sunny day in Seattle today. So, naturally (?), I turn to introspection…

Driving with the windows down
on a warm, sunny morning
Laura Nyro’s ‘Stoned Soul Picnic’ coming from the cassette
as the tall, tall trees that line the road
sway with the gentle breeze

I think about driving into town
but I shouldn’t go without warning
I’ve got work to do that I haven’t started yet
and I really need to lighten that load
if I’m to get through the week with ease

I’m thinking about her as I drive around
it seems some wheels never stop turning
It’s been so, so long since we last met
I really wish I could drop everything and go
to walk with her under those tall, tall trees

So I turn up the volume to drown out the sound
of all those regrets that won’t stop burning
like that last untouched cigarette
I left in the ashtray, next to the undeciphered code
that would have brought me to my knees

If I had only tried, instead of running straight to ground
to avoid all the nausea and the churning
for this one-room apartment and crummy kitchenette
I might have learned what I was afraid to know
and chosen the embrace over the squeeze

(4 June 2016)